Gorecki
by forty five
Summary: It's easy to go crazy when your best friend is dead at your hands. / Yaoi. SoRiku, RoxDem, SoRox. AU!
1. I: My Stability

The feeling of falling is both a very terrifying and very heavenly emotion. It's the feeling you get when you're young and going over a hill in the car, finding your insides so floaty and it almost tickles; but then there's the crash, and suddenly that floaty feeling goes away and it's all pain and blood and lacerations covering your skin, cut down to the milk white of your bones. They're whiter than pearls, those bones, never tarnished by the winds of the outside world, always protected by flesh and skin. And, for the seconds that feel like minutes after the crash, all you can sense is the _pain_. All you can see is red and every single fiber and nerve of your being is screaming bloody murder—but just as suddenly as it comes, it goes. The pain's gone and you're numb; numb like a child's fingers after spending the day playing in the snow, numb like it felt on Prozac, numb like you've been sitting cross-legged too long, numb like you just don't want to feel anymore.

As I found myself being lifted onto a stretcher, my thoughts were tangled and cluttered and messy but it was all working out into a way that this still felt like I was falling; I was still tumbling through the sky and my crash landing hadn't even occurred yet, even as the lacerations burned and bruises formed.

The EMT told me not to fall asleep as he strapped a brace around my throat. Sleep called for me; I put up a weak fight. I tried and tried but let my eyes flutter closed and fell into the abyss of slumber. Perhaps it was unconsciousness, rather than slumber. Regardless, I allowed every sense of awareness to fade and for my eyes shut completely.

* * *

When I came to it was twelve minutes past noon in the middle of December. I'd been asleep for twelve days and was still in ICU. My doctor, a tall, blond man who told me to call him Ansem, informed me of this before my visitors were paraded into my room: Mom, Naminé, Cloud, and Aerith. Mom gushed over me, touching my face and my hair and kissing my forehead too many times. She crooned over her "sweet, sweet baby," and pulled Cloud and Naminé over. Cloud, phlegmatic as ever, held little emotion in his expression, but buckets of it in his eyes. Naminé, akin to our mother, was crying. I didn't understand why Aerith was there. She was my brother's girlfriend and best friend's sister, but she and I were never especially close. When I noticed tears glistening in Aerith's eyes, I began to question what exactly was going on and what events had occurred while I was away from reality.

"Mom…?" I trailed off uncertainly, tugging at the sleeves of my starched hospital gown. There were two IVs stuck in the inside of my elbow, one with a clear substance and the other with blood. I could feel tight bandages around my torso, arms and head. "Mom, where's Riku?"

Mom bit her lip, her gaze downcast. Naminé pressed her palm against her mouth, choking back sobs whilst Aerith began to cry. She didn't make a single sound; no shaky gasps, no sobs, just tears. Cloud didn't notice her tears, not taking his eyes off me as I stared at his girlfriend, needing to know what was going on. I finally looked back to my mother, awaiting an answer.

"Riku died, honey," she murmured. My eyes widened and I shot upward abruptly; the room spun and stopped at the same time. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. "He's been dead for eleven days now, sweetheart. His funeral is tomorrow."

* * *

I only had a matter of hours to comprehend that my best friend was dead. He had died and I hadn't. I should've died, too, shouldn't have I? My head ached and my wounds burned as I dressed for the funeral. I wasn't supposed to be out of the hospital yet, but a little bit of crying and a whole lot of begging had gotten Ansem to allow me authorization to be out of the hospital for Riku's ceremony. I had new bandages wrapped around my torso, biceps and head. I hadn't acknowledged the nasty head wound I'd earned when I was launched from the car; cuts and bruises were scattered across my left cheek and a gash on my forehead had required stitches. Ansem said that I had a concussion; that I was lucky my skull wasn't fractured. _I _thought I was lucky I wasn't dead. Why had Riku died and not me? I didn't understand what made me any better than Riku. He was a better person than I was—he didn't cheat on his Physics final last year and he took care of his siblings better than I ever could and he had Sora to worry about.

Sora was the same age as me, with blue eyes and chestnut hair. He was a sweet kid, always smiling wide but never really that happy. His parents had gotten a divorce last year, and from what I knew it was quite messy. Sora and I weren't the best of friends—I'm sure that the only reason we had ever interacted was because he was dating Riku and Riku was my best friend. I had no desire to face Sora—I knew he would be a wreck, having another thing snatched from him in such a sort amount of time. I sighed as I buttoned all but the top button of the buttons on my dress shirt. I didn't want to know if Sora blamed me for what happened; I was already aware that it was my fault.

"Uh-uh-uh," Mom scolded when I reached for my favorite hoodie. I tilted my head, letting out a groan when she handed me a blazer. Riku wouldn't have wanted this. He would have wanted everyone dressing how they liked and celebrating his life, not crying over his death. I sighed and shrugged the jacket on, refusing to wear the navy tie Mom handed me. She exhaled loudly and exasperatedly, crossing her arms.

"No, Mom," I stated. "I'm not wearing a tie."

She pursed her lips, but agreed to let me go without the tie. Cloud was dressed similarly to me, black shirt, dark tie and blazer. Naminé and Mom wore simple black dresses; Naminé wore charcoal colored tights and an open peacoat, her eyes sad. Twelve days until Christmas and we were attending a funeral. I was going to my best friend's funeral; a funeral I shouldn't have been attending—I should've been in a casket along with him, dead as can be.

The ceremony was agonizing. I didn't speak, and neither did Sora, but Riku's parents did. I touched the outline of my stitches through the bandage around my head. I pressed the pads of my fingers against the small bumps of stitches until tears pricked my eyes and a dull throb erupted from the laceration. Riku's dad, two uncles and who I assumed was a cousin carried the coffin out of the church and into the cemetery, following the crowd of those invited to the service. My lip quivered when I caught sight of Sora. He walked alone, arms crossed tightly and tears falling off his chin. Biting the tender flesh of my lower lip, I fought to keep from crying.

I felt horrible for not shedding even a tear at my best friend's funeral; for even _being_ at my best friend's funeral. I didn't want to accept the fact that Riku was gone—gone for good and never coming back. We'd never have those Friday night movie nights or hang out by the docks or graduate together, tossing our caps into the sky and escaping this small town in favor for a university down south.

The burial was worse than the ceremony. As the silver coffin was lowered into the ground, something inside me finally broke. Naminé held me as I ducked into her embrace, burying against the curve of her neck and wetting her peacoat with salty tears. Naminé began to sob as well; her tears seeped through the spikes of my hair and I held tightly onto her, just as she did onto me. I almost expected Cloud or Mom to come over and hold us, stop our tears, but neither did. Naminé and I didn't move, didn't do anything but cry and sob and weep until either she or I lost strength in our shaking, quaking knees to meet the snow-littered ground.

My hearing muffled; nothing except the quiet sounds of our heavy breathing and choked sobs even registered in my brain as noise. I didn't hear Cloud's heavy boots crunch along through the thickening layer of snow and I didn't hear what he said—only watched his lips move as Naminé released me and we looked to our brother. Cloud stopped talking and Naminé started to; I heard her voice, faintly, but stared blankly. I couldn't understand what she was saying; my brain couldn't comprehend the sound waves being sent to it through my eardrums.

Naminé's gaze grew to that of a concerned mother as I continued to be unresponsive. It was Lilliputian to me—it didn't matter that Cloud and Naminé wanted me to acknowledge them, wanted me to speak and look at them as if I was aware of my surroundings. Naminé shook my shoulders, her lips and expression broadcasting to me that she was shouting, desperate for an answer or some form of movement to assure her of my consciousness.

"Roxas!" my sister exclaimed, her voice finally piercing through the haze surrounding me and reverberating us both halfway back to tears. I winced involuntarily as her exclamation rang through my ears, prickling upward into the highest of octaves. Cloud was obviously becoming alarmed over my impassiveness as he knelt by my side, hand over Naminé's. My eyes jumped from my brother to my sister and back, irises—mine and theirs—overflowing with uncertainty and tears.

"You okay, kiddo?" Cloud whispered.

I looked him straight in the eye. "N… No," I replied, a sob's quiver breaking the syllable.

Naminé held me again, relieved to have a response. The wetness of the snow, melting from my body heat pressed against it, began to seep into the fabric of my dress pants and I was suddenly subjected to the coldness of the air. I felt the tears on my cheeks and nose and chin chill and their paths freeze over my skin. The snow's austere frigidness bled through the thin layers of my clothing and sent shivers through my bone, through my marrow.

"C'mon, let's get him in the church." Cloud said, lifting me onto my feet. The moment his hands left my underarms, I collapsed, falling straight back into the snow. The brief impact made the lacerations across my back sting, but the immediate cold from the snow relieved the pain. Cloud lifted me again, hooking my arm around his neck and his around my waist. Naminé trailed after us, opening the church door and closing it behind us.

Mom rushed over when we came in; instantly, she began to fuss over me. She ran her fingers through my hair, pushing the spikes out of my eyes, and asked too many questions of how I felt, if I was cold, why I was crying. I pulled away from her harshly, folding my arms over my stomach. Hurt flashed in her eyes and I allowed my shoulder blades to knock against Cloud's arm. I kept my gaze downward, apprehensive in my stance.

"I… I've gotta go to the bathroom." I lied and took haste in backing off and trailing towards the men's room. Sora was there, standing at the last sink, holding onto the basin so tightly the very tips of his knuckles were white. I cleared my throat as quietly as I could and spoke up, "S-Sora?"

He turned to me suddenly, dropping his hold the sink and slumping against the wall behind him. He looked scared; his eyes wide as tears left shiny streaks down his cheeks and his shoulders shook with gentle sobs. Sora was, in short, a train wreck. It was obvious he hadn't been taking good care of himself, judging by the dark, purple bags that hung under his eyes and his disheveled, greasy hair.

"Roxas," he whimpered, straightening up. I'd never seen Sora like this before. He'd always been rather depressed whenever reminded of his parents' issues, but never once had I seen him cry. It was almost scary—in my subconscious, I supposed I viewed Sora as unbreakable. He pulled through the destruction of his family with his head held high and a smile, no matter its validity, wide on his lips. When I looked again to Sora, he'd pulled himself together; no longer were there tears in his eyes or glistening streaks on his cheeks. I nodded slightly, motioning for him to continue what he had begun to say.

Instead of speaking, Sora decided upon a completely different chain of events that I never expected. It felt as if it were only milliseconds after I nodded that Sora kissed me, hard and on my lips. It wasn't tentative or apprehensive, but harsh and desperate—desperate enough to have teeth clash and lips bruise. I kissed back with just as much feverish impetuosity before coming to the realization of what was occurring; of what I was doing and what Sora was doing. Gripping his shoulders as his arms snaked around my waist, I pushed Sora from me, detaching our lips abruptly and earning a glare. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand roughly, staring at Sora—halfway questioning, the other half bemused. His hands grabbed at the bruises on my sides and I fought the wince away.

"S-Sora," I mumbled, regaining my breath. "We can't. I can't—_you_ can't."

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Roxas." Sora spat; his eyes were angry, livid, but his voice was calm as water and blank as snow. He stepped towards me, continuing forward until his mouth was dangerously close to mine and his fingertips were at the small of my back; I couldn't think—my mind was frazzled, only able to focus on Sora's lips. There were no thoughts of the funeral and emotional turmoil rattling in my brain, but of Sora's lips and what it felt like to have them pressed to mine. "'Cause I'm gonna do what I want."

His breath was hot on my lips and I backed away from him, out of his grasp and colliding with a hand dryer. I gasped as sharp, electric pain rushed through my bruised body and stumbled, colliding with the wall. I didn't know this Sora—this Sora was sexy, blasé and cool. The Sora I knew was carefully particular and apprehensive; deathly shy but still an extrovert. This Sora left me leaning against the wall and clutching my throbbing ribcage. I couldn't fathom what had just happened; Sora had kissed me at his boyfriend's funeral—at my best friend's funeral. My lower lip quivered, though I wasn't quite sure why, and I eventually strolled out of the bathroom as if nothing had transpired.

* * *

My stay in the hospital extended until a week after the funeral. I'd learned that my car was broken beyond repair and it was reiterated that I was lucky to be alive. I didn't feel lucky, but felt immensely guilty. The horrible feeling of remorse was eroding my core to the point where I couldn't eat without the consumed food promptly exiting. Mom was worried sick about me. Whenever I threw up, she called Ansem and my mother wouldn't be satisfied until he performed a thorough examination. I fought with Cloud more than ever as well. We'd always had our bitter arguments, as brothers are expected to, but never as frequently or as harsh as they had been during my stay in the hospital.

The immense feeling of guilt refused to vanish, even after I was discharged from the hospital. I must have lost at least ten pounds in addition to what I had lost whilst in my previous comatose state because of my inability to hold down food. I didn't go to school; I wouldn't have wanted to, either; the guilt was draining me physically and emotionally. It literally took all of my strength to get up and get dressed in the mornings, let alone go to school to deal with questioning and sympathetic stars.

"Hey Roxas," the familiarity of his voice was soothing, though unexpected; Demyx was a longtime and mutual friend of Riku and I. He was laidback and happy-go-lucky, impossible to hate; Demyx was Demyx, and he was one of the few people I could count on. I hadn't seen him at the funeral, but it hadn't crossed my mind until he had visited me.

"Demyx," I responded, perking up. A smile ghosted over my lips and Demyx threw back a soft half-smile.

"How've you been?" Demyx asked, strolling over and sitting gingerly beside me. Biting my lip, remorse clouded over once more. I shrugged.

"I don't know, Dem," I answered sincerely. "I really don't know."

Demyx sighed and put an arm over my shoulders; we sat on the couch in my basement for so long, his arm over me and hand holding mine. I leant into his embrace over time, indulging in the familiar comfort. Demyx was there—something I desperately needed. I hadn't had stability since the accident; my siblings walked on eggshells around me, as did my mother, and I hadn't seen Sora since the incident after the funeral. I whined in protest when Dem abruptly moved his hand from mine to tangle it in my hair, breaking my relaxed trance.

"I have to go to work, Roxy," he said, already moving to leave. My childish needs caused me to grab his shirt, ceasing his movement. He sighed softly, but not angrily. "Look, Roxas, I promise I'll be back after my shift. Okay?" he worked on loosening my grip and backed off. "I'll be back at six thirty, Roxy."

I looked at him, pleading, and searched his eyes. Demyx was a kindhearted, empathetic creature; as our eyes remained locked, I hoped he would stay. My hands were finally detangled from Demyx's shirt, but Dem kept his hands over mine, cupping my fingers. He knelt to my eye level and gave that small half smile again.

"Look, Roxy," he said, playing with my fingers as he spoke. "It won't be that long, promise. I can't stay—I wish I could, but I can't. But, hey, I have Friday off. That can be an us day, okay?"

I knew and he knew that he was just trying to please me. For his sake, I nodded and forced a smile. His smile widened and he slipped away, ruffling my hair as he strolled gracefully towards the staircase. I bit my lip and slumped against the couch cushions once Demyx was gone. My lower lip quivered against my teeth and I bit harder, sniffling and forcing away the tears. My stability was gone.

* * *

**A/N:** I've had this plot bunny chewing at my brain's wires for a long while now and finally got it onto paper. (Microsoft Word, whatever.) I'm quite proud of it thus far, but would like to have a beta reader to check over grammar and maybe some of the flow (feel free to point anything out if you see it!)

Anyway, thank you for reading, and I hope you'll stick around for more or to review or something :)


	2. II: Nothingness

_II: Nothingness_

I grew antsy as half-past six drew near with no sign of or contact from Demyx. I felt clingy and stupid, but Demyx was doing a better job of comforting than my family was at the moment and, of all things, I needed soothing more so. I paced around the basement, too anxious to sit, until I found my energy draining and drowsiness creep across my spine, transmitting itself through my nerves. It wasn't long before I was too groggy to stay upright or pace around the room and decided on trying to take a nap until Demyx got back. While I didn't want to miss him if he dropped by, I didn't want to worry myself waiting.

The couch was very appealing to my groggy brain at that moment, despite its tendency to poke uncomfortably with its springs and rather stiff, thin cushions. It didn't take long for my will to buckle and for my body to give and fall onto the couch, into a calm slumber. This slumber was more enticing than the less-than-comfortable sofa. In the nights following the accident, increasingly after the funeral, rest hadn't been pleasurable. The same guilt that had me unable to hold down food was beginning to seep into one of my only remaining sanctuaries from this horrible reality. Nightmares haunter my near sleepless nights and I knew that even Demyx couldn't keep the dreams at bay.

In contrast to my previous bleary state, I was surprisingly more alert when I was gently shaken back to reality. Demyx's bright eyes smiled at me as I stirred and fluttered my eyes ajar.

"Good morning sunshine," Demyx joked lightly, his lips turning upward to match his eyes. A faded smile formed on my lips in return.

"What time is it?" I inquired, sitting upright slowly and clearing the drowsy phlegm from my voice and the dried water from my eyelashes.

"Almost seven" Demyx answered. "I'm a bit late," he added with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Roxas."

I shrugged. "I slept. I didn't really notice you were late."

I swallowed back a new wave of guilt and nausea. I didn't lie to Demyx; I _had_ slept for the time that he was late. I was simply impatient when the specified time had begun to draw near but wasn't awake for when it had passed. Demyx hadn't even noticed my lie. As I returned my attention to Demyx rather than the increasing remorse within my bowels, I observed a cloud of worry over the usually prominently gleaming orbs of Dem's irises. We studied each other's eyes for a moment before completely breaking eye contact.

"Whaddya wanna do, Roxy?" Demyx finally asked, blatantly changing the subject with a happy-go-lucky, chipper undertone to his voice. I pondered for a moment, suddenly consumed with Riku and what we would be doing out in the fresh layer of snow; I couldn't refrain from remembering the years of friendship we'd collected and the winters we'd spent sledding and drinking hot cocoa in my kitchen. I shut my eyes tightly for a moment before looking again to Demyx and shrugging.

"I dunno," I answered. "Don't really care, either."

Demyx pursed his lips a little, lapsing into thought, before perking up gleefully and I could've sworn a light bulb jumped from the crest of his skull. A smile spread generously across his thin lips and Demyx pointed a finger at me.

"We," he gestured with between us with his pointed finger, "should go Christmas shopping."

His smile turned to a triumphant sort of smirk and he put his hands on his lips, waiting for my approval. I hesitated, glancing out at the snow, before forcing a smile and a nod. I needed to start getting gifts together anyway; I hadn't gotten a chance to shop betwixt my recovery in the hospital, Riku's funeral and returning home. Demyx's grin returned and he tugged me off the couch.

Before we left, I changed into clothes more suitable for the weather; straight leg jeans and a pullover hoodie rather than my stained sweatpants and thin shirt. Demyx threw my coat at me when I descended the stairs, earning an agitated glower, before he proceeded to stroll out the front door. I sighed, only slightly amused, and shrugged on the coat.

"So… Christmas shopping, huh?" I mumbled, hoping to start conversation as Demyx and I walked from my house to the mall only half a mile away.

"Yep," he replied. "It's what I love most about the Christmas season—gifts and giving."

The combination of his dopey smile and the bitter wind beginning to turn his nose and ears red made me chuckle. Demyx's grin widened and he laughed too; we both knew very well that there was nothing amusing in the slightest about what he had said, but we still smiled and laughed. It was liberating to laugh again; for that moment, mid-chuckle, I felt happier and more free than I'd felt in weeks.

As we entered the mall, my positive emotions shrank into discomfort and a lump in my throat. The huge crowds of last minute shoppers made me nervous and I looked to Demyx for reassurance or encouragement. He smiled at me, gave a thumbs up and walked close to me when we maneuvered through one of the large crowds.

"Who do you want to shop for first?" I asked as we came to a less crowded part of the mall.

Demyx shrugged. "I dunno. How 'bout your brother and sister?"

We spent a while searching for the right gifts for Cloud and Naminé. Naminé was easier to shop for; she would be going off to an art university next fall, so it only seemed logical to get her new art supplies for her portfolio. Cloud, however, wasn't as easy. He was already in college and never really talked about gifts or Christmas, so I was clueless as to what to give him. I decided on a novel that was a good couple inches thick and seemed to be of the science fiction genre. Demyx chipped in and made me promise to let them know that the gifts were from him too.

"Next up, Leon and Yuffie!" Demyx exclaimed, tugging me along.

The next two and a half hours were spent doing nothing but searching for gifts. We gathered most of the presents we needed, along with wrapping paper and tags, before beginning to head out of the mall. I stopped dead in my tracks upon noticing a slim girl enter the mall. It's Aerith; I hadn't seen her since the funeral. She hadn't come by to visit Cloud, either, but he'd been to see her. When she noticed me, her reaction was just a hair from identical.

"Roxy?" Demyx look at me curiously. "You okay…?" he turned, following my gaze, and let out a small noise of acknowledgement when he saw Aerith. "Oh… uh, c'mon, Roxas. We'd better get going."

He pulled me along with him again, waving kindly to Aerith when we passed her. She didn't react and I didn't follow Demyx's friendly example. Snow fell lazily as we walked back to my house. We moved slowly as well, weighed down by the shopping bags and from seeing Aerith at the mall.

"Oh fiddlesticks," Demyx grumbled suddenly. "I forgot Axel."

I paused, realizing that we had forgotten completely about Axel's gift. "Oh yeah," I said. "We _did_ forget Axel."

Demyx shrugged. "Well, I guess we'll just have to go back tomorrow. We've still got time, right?"

I nodded. There were still a few days before Christmas, and both Demyx and I knew that Axel was going to visit his parents for the holiday rather than spending it here with his friends, so he wouldn't be in town for Christmas day anyhow.

Naminé was in the front yard with a handful of her friends when we reached the house. They were laughing loudly, building a snowman and falling back to make snow angels and obviously having a good time. I sighed quietly, shuffling my feet against the treated sidewalk.

"Roxas!" one of Naminé's friends exclaimed. "Roxas, you should help us build the snowman!"

I couldn't even bring myself to look at her.

"Maybe another time!" Demyx called back, saving my skin. "Roxas here is all tuckered out from Christmas shopping."

He ruffled my hair and we continued inside, ready to wrap the presents and make hot cocoa. The busy shopping day quickly turned into a lazy day again, relaxing in the warmth of my house rather than the bustling mall. My gut twisted as we went through the gifts, each with a label for a specific person. Except Riku. I had to remember that he was dead and wouldn't be around for Christmas. Though, he wasn't gone like axel was gone. Axel would be back before New Years', but Riku was gone for good and never coming back. I stopped wrapping to sulk. Pretending like Demyx wasn't staring worriedly at me over his stack of wrapped gifts, I sipped at my hot cocoa in hopes that it would warm my saddened heart.

"Roxas," Demyx murmured. "I know what you're thinking about and I want you to stop it." When I didn't respond, he continued. "Look, I know how terrible you feel but it's okay. Believe me, please. It's horrible, yes, but you've got to look at all that you have. Just, it's Christmas, Roxy. Put on a happy face and you sulk all you want on New Years', okay?"

I nodded even though I didn't want to and went back to wrapping gifts.

We returned to the mall the next day to get Axel's gifts. I nearly jumped out of my skin when Santa, who had just finished telling a little boy that he'd get that toy car if he was a good boy, called me out by name and gestured for me to come over. Demyx ushered me over without hesitation but not without a few sniggers. None of the parents standing in line protested. I assumed that they were aware of what happened; this was a small city, after all, and it's not like every day two teenagers are involved in a fatal vehicle crash.

"Sit on my lap, young man," Santa said, patting his knee. I gave him an odd look but did so, sitting gingerly on his knee. "Now what do you want for Christmas, Roxas?"

I recognized the voice when he dropped the Saint Nicholas imitation. "What the hell, Axel?" I hissed, very close to jumping off his knee and leaving the mall all together.

He gives a hearty laugh of ho-ho-hos and pats his huge fake belly. He pretended like I had told him I wanted something for Christmas and sent me on my way with a few words of encouragement. He even told one of the elves to give me an extra candy cane when I walked back over to Demyx.

"Why is Axel a mall picture Santa?" I questioned once Demyx and I were out of the North Pole area of the mall.

Demyx shrugged. "He wanted to do something fun this year. And you know how he is with kids."

I nodded; Axel was one of those people that young kids just gravitated to. Kids loved him and he loved kids; we knew that he was going to make one hell of a dad one day. We get Axel's gifts from one of the smaller shops in the mall and I picked up one of those cheap, faux velvet Santa Clause hats to replace the one he had to wear for the costume.

It wasn't a lengthy trip to the mall as it was the day before, but it was still draining my energy. Sleep didn't come easy; if I got even three hours of continuous rest, I was lucky. I spent a lot of my sleepless time thinking. It was a bad kind of thinking, because it rooted out my guilt and I still felt like throwing up whenever I was reminded of the crash or of Riku or of anything that reminded me of those things.

Demyx abandoned me for work again, but I insisted that he just go home to spend time with his family instead of visiting me again after work. He'd been spending the majority of his time with me as of late, and I felt remorse for keeping him from his family during such a special time of year.

Naminé came inside after Demyx left with snow covering her and her hair stuck to her face and neck. She was laughing and shouted a goodbye to her friends over her shoulder. Stamping her feet to rid her boots of snow, Naminé greeted me cheerfully. I nodded in response and finished stacking the gifts under the tree. Cloud had brought the tree home while I was still in the hospital and Naminé had decorated it. It seemed no different than any Christmas we'd ever had, but just a bit deeper than the perfect holiday photo, we were all still hurting.

Naminé went upstairs to change out of her snow clothes and I watched as her boots left small puddles on the hardwood. I sighed, leaning away from the presents. It was depressing to think of last Christmas and how Riku and I had spent the entire winter break sledding, having snowball fights and running off to the frozen lake in the park to skate.

"Anyone home?" Cloud called from the entry way at the front of the house. He closed the door loudly and I counted his footfalls until he was in the living room. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted me.

"Hey Cloud," I mimicked, rising to my feet and hugging my torso.

"Mom's working late tonight," he said as he walked into the kitchen, the door creaking angrily when he opened it. "I'm in charge and Naminé's cooking dinner."

I nodded as I trailed after him, sitting on one of the barstools at the island counter. I told Cloud that Naminé was upstairs and that I was going to my room until it was time for dinner. Before he could respond, I stood and walked lackadaisically to my room. I curled up on my bed and planned to do absolutely nothing for the next hours.


	3. III: Hallucination

_III: Hallucination_

Naminé's food was always better than Mom's food. Our mother wasn't a typical mom; she couldn't cook to save her life, couldn't tell you the difference between a running stitch and a cross stitch and rarely cleaned. Being a single mother had defeated these traits, as Cloud had said she used to be a stay at home, domesticated mother, but after I was born and she started working providing for the family became more important than keeping up on her cooking books, sewing and maintaining the home's sheen. Naminé, in comparison, was a den mother. Sometimes, she babied me more than our mother did—at least, before the accident it seemed that way.

"So what did you and Demyx do today?" Naminé asked. We had gathered in the living room with our plates, watching an old Christmas movie and eating in silence.

"Just Christmas shopping," I mumbled, pushing my food around on my plate. I'd eaten some, but was too nauseated to even think of eating more. Slightly put off by my indifference, Naminé stared at me for a moment before asking Cloud about his day. He had caught up with some old friends of his—the ones who went off to university while he stayed back to help Mom raise Naminé and I.

I tuned back into Cloud and Naminé's conversation. "…Yeah," Cloud said. "Zack invited me and Aerith to go to the beach with him and a couple other people when they're on spring break. I think I'll go, at least. It'd be nice to get away from here for a while."

It would, I agreed. I was sick of the same old, same old. I needed a change of scenery, but didn't want to leave at the same time.

Naminé nodded. "It would be nice to get away. So much has happened in the past few weeks… I feel like I just need to take a breather for a bit."

If Naminé needed a breather, I needed a fucking vacation. This town was beginning to give me a stomach ache and I hadn't even gotten that much sympathy yet. The next day, I did. I visited Riku's gravesite for the first time since the funeral, a week and a half before. A few people from school gave me sad looks when I passed them on my way to the cemetery and a few girls I knew apologized to me. It made me uncomfortable; I wasn't that popular, even if I was golden boy Riku's best friend, and being approached by people I didn't know was unsettling. I didn't like my business posted around everywhere.

Riku's tombstone was still held the same luster as it did on the day of his funeral. Snow covered the dirt above his coffin, though, and the footprints of the guests were long gone. The various flowers and gifts that were left at his gravesite still littered around the tomb, dusted with snow and wilted as they may have been. I knelt by the tombstone and brushed loose flakes from the ridges and the crevices of the engraved stone.

"Life's been a wreck without you, Riku," I murmured as I pushed the snow from his marker. "It hasn't even been a month yet and everything's so different. It's hard to believe that you're actually gone…" I choked up, pulling my bare hands from the stone and holding them between my elbows and torso. I took a deep breath and continued. "S-Sometimes, I wake up ex-expecting you to run into my house like it was a-all some sort of j-joke. But then I r-remember it isn't."

I couldn't believe I was pouring my heart out to a rock. Squeezing my eyes shut, I forced myself not to cry and rose to my feet. I told Riku, or his grave, rather, that I'd visit again and left the cemetery. I opted not to go home; not for a while, at least. Instead, I wandered around town alone except for the snowflakes, growing heavier the sun sank to the horizon. I called Cloud, using a payphone on a sketchy street corner because my cell phone was lost in the crash along with my car, and requested a ride home and warm clothes.

He scolded me when I got into the car, shivering and hair wet from the snow, lecturing of how I shouldn't be wandering off without telling him and how I should've worn my jacket. He was right, but I didn't reply. I knew that, while Cloud didn't show it, almost losing me along with Riku had taken a huge toll on my older brother. Naminé and Mom had been obvious in their fear since the crash, but Cloud hadn't. In his own way, it wasn't hard to see how he was worried, but an outsider would have simply brushed it off as Cloud's antisocial, brooding personality.

"I'm just worried about you, Roxas," Cloud admitted. "You've been through a lot these past few weeks and I don't want you to do something stupid and hurt yourself."

I nodded. "I know, Cloud."

The remainder of the drive home was silent. Cloud never played the radio when he drove and didn't talk much to begin with. General unease settled in as my fingers regained feeling and my nose stopped running; the last time I fully remembered being in a car, it involved crashing it and being ejected with a one way ticket through the windshield. I trusted Cloud, yes, but I couldn't help but see flashing headlights, hear squealing tires desperate to brake and feel my head slam against asphalt. When the car stopped I all but jumped from the passenger seat; the relief of unmoving ground beneath my feet was unexplainable.

I went straight to my room after Cloud unlocked the front door and we ditched our shoes next to the welcome mat. I stayed in my room through the night and all of the next day. When I finally left my room it was Christmas Eve and I was in desperate need for a shower. I knew that Mom had Christmas Eve and Day off, but the next day she went straight back to work; there was hardly any time for family, but, still, I vaguely remembered hearing my aunt saying they'd drop by for Christmas when we had visited for Thanksgiving. I wandered downstairs and found my siblings bickering and my mother dumping burnt cookies into the trash bin.

"Good morning, Roxy," Mom said when she looked up from the blackened pine tree sweets.

"Hey, Mom," I replied, thankful that she didn't mention that they hadn't seen head nor tail of me since Cloud had brought me home from the cemetery.

"I would offer you a cookie," she chuckled, "but I don't think you'd want one."

I smiled a little and nodded, bypassing Naminé and getting the orange juice from the fridge behind her. Mom handed me a glass and I filled it graciously. Mom filled a glass as well and we watched Cloud and Naminé argue. When their voices got too loud and it looked like Naminé was going to either cry or slap Cloud, Mom intervened.

"Okay, okay," Mom said, pushing them apart. "Calm down, both of you. It's not that big of a deal; Nami, it wasn't Cloud's fault, Cloud, it isn't your fault but you should've kept a better eye on him. Now, both of you, calm down and remember that it's Christmastime and we don't have the spirit to fight right now."

I knew they were talking about me but didn't comment. I snuck away, taking my juice upstairs with intentions of taking a long shower. I spent a long time thinking in the shower—about Cloud and Naminé, my mother, Demyx and Axel, and, of course, Riku. It was still hard to believe that he was gone. I'd had the perfect gift in mind for him, but now I'd never buy it and he'd never receive it. I sighed and turned the water off, much cleaner than I was before but also saddened. I wrapped a towel around my waist and grabbed my clothes off of the sink counter. I got dressed, leaving my shirt on the counter until I could rewrap my bandages, and wiped steam from the mirror to fix my hair. I looked down for a second to grab a comb and nearly screamed when I looked back to the mirror. I dropped the comb and it clattered against the faucet. I turned harshly, grabbing the counter to support my shaking body, but saw nothing.

"R-Riku?" I whispered, looking around the bathroom. There was no sign of my friend but I was _so_ sure I had just seen him. My fast, scared breathing made my ribs ache and I shook my head. "There's nothing there, Roxas. You're just imagining it. You're tired—you didn't sleep at all last night. It's just your imagination turning steam into Riku. You're not crazy; just tired and imagining things. Riku's dead. Riku is _dead_."

I spiked my hair messily and threw my sweater over my head, getting out of the bathroom in record time. Making a beeline to the basement, I rushed past Cloud and nearly fell down the stairs as I ran down them two at a time. The longer I sat alone on the couch, the more I felt as if I was going crazy. Had I actually seen Riku in the bathroom? Was I hallucinating? Or had I hit my head harder than they thought in the accident?

My aunt, Nora, and Uncle Alban came over in the late afternoon to exchange gifts and good words. Aunt Nora squeezed me so hard when she first saw me I thought she was going to break another of my ribs. Uncle Alban, however, simply shook my hand and patted my shoulder, claiming that he was happy my injuries weren't too terrible. I smiled and nodded, playing off the easy conversation and putting Riku into the farthest crevices of the darkest cave in the back of my head. Nora and Naminé made an early dinner of roast beef and mashed potatoes; I forced it down despite my unease and refused to allow it to resurface.

"Let's go ahead and exchange gifts," Uncle Alban declared after dinner. "I know these kids are probably dying to get those presents open." He winked at Naminé and I before we all migrated to the living room and around the tree. The gifts were what Nora and Alban gave us nearly every year; a matching set of gloves, a hat and scarf for Naminé; a jacket for Cloud and a sweater for me. Nora gave Mom an embroidered pair of oven mitts, claiming that she needed to get back into cooking since her skills had all but vanished into thin air, and Alban gave her a novel that a friend of his had written and become fairly acclaimed. He said it was very good, and after he and Nora opened their gifts they were on their way back to the beach-house-turned-permanent-home in Coasta del Sol.

I helped Mom and Cloud do the dishes while Naminé cleaned up the wrapping paper after Uncle Alban and Aunt Nora had left. I dried the dishes and put them away as they washed and handed them off to me. I listened as Cloud asked Mom if his friends, who would be getting home from university soon, could visit tomorrow. I remembered Cloud's friends in great detail; his best friends, Zack and Reno, were loud, obnoxious and the complete opposite of Cloud. His friends Tseng and Cissinei, however, were quiet and nicer than the other two and, if I recalled correctly, were the ones who urged him to ask Aerith to prom, sparking their longtime relationship.

"Of course, honey," Mom said. "Just make sure Zack and Reno are on their best behavior. You do remember last time they came over, don't you?"

Cloud winced at the memory. "Yes, Mom, I remember…"

It was hard to forget. Reno had shown up drunk and Zack was just being plain goofy when Reno decided it would be a fine idea to play a prank on Cloud and he ended up blowing up the microwave and setting the curtains next to it aflame. Even today none of us could look back on it and smile or laugh. I was sure Mom was still bitter over the loss of her favorite drapes and the fact that Reno still hadn't paid her back for the microwave he'd exploded.

"They're better, Mom." Cloud insisted, throwing a glance to the microwave we'd had since Reno's last visit. "Well… Zack is, at least. Reno's… getting there, I think. He's got a girlfriend keeping him in line."

Silently, I wondered _who_ in the _hell_ would ever think of getting into a relationship with Reno Tarshil of all people—the king of laziness, drunkenness, flirty-ness and ever other bad attribute around. The guy was a walking catastrophe and had the scars to prove it. I glanced between my mother and brother and waited for her reaction. First, she put the plate she was washing down and turned to Cloud. Her eyebrow quirked and she took the rubber gloves off her hands.

"Reno Tarshil has a girlfriend?" Mom questioned as her other eyebrow raised to join the first.

"I didn't believe it either." Cloud admitted. "But she's apparently one hell of a woman and rules with an iron fist."

Mom snickered. "That boy needs that kind of woman. Who knows where he'd end up."

"Yeah…" Cloud said. "I haven't met her, though. I hope she's nicer than his other… girlfriends, if you can call them that."

* * *

**A/N: **For Zöe, who is probably going to kick my arse for not posting this sooner.

Zack is Zack Fair, Cloud's best friend from Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core; he's also the black-haired boy in Kingdom Hearts: Birth by Sleep.

Reno is a Turk from Final Fantasy VII and VII: Crisis Core. His last name isn't actually Tarshil, but this is a generally used fanmade surname for him that I like to use.

Tseng is also a Turk from Final Fantasy VII and VII: Crisis Core. In Crisis Core he was good friends with Zack and watched over Aerith.

Cissinei is a Turk from Final Fantasy VII and VII: Crisis Core. She was also good friends with Zack in Crisis Core.


End file.
